


An Eerie Sight

by Toast_Senpai



Series: Theme Weeks [2]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Baking, Demons, Elves, Foxes, Gen, Ghosts, Halloween, Kitsune, M/M, Magic, Monsters, Multi, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Skeletons, Undead, Vampires, Weapons, Witchcraft, Witches, october17, prompt week monsters, prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-08 04:52:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12247377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toast_Senpai/pseuds/Toast_Senpai
Summary: Seven prompts, each a different monster theme.





	1. Ghosts, Specters, & Spirits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the time Sips played Resident Evil 7. That man was scared shitless and so was I.  
> Prompt: Ghosts, specters, and spirits

It had taken every bribe in the book to get Sips to come with them to the location. It had taken even more coercion once Sips realized they were leaving town and heading into the forest as dusk settled in.

“You’ll be fine,” Trott said. He was sitting next to Sips in the backseat of Alex’s car, trying his best to reassure Sips that nothing scary was likely to happen on this trip. “We’re just going to spend a few hours inside the church and see if we can get any evidence.”

Sips, knuckles white as he gripped the seat under him, looked even more pale than usual. “Why do we have to go at _night_?”

“That’s when ghosts come out,” Alex said, a little _too_ cheerfully.

“We’re going to step on a rotten board and fall through the floor and get tetanus,” Sips groaned. “This is a really bad idea.”

Trott put a hand on Sips’ shoulder. “Remember what we talked about earlier? This is about facing your fears. Besides, we probably won’t capture anything strange. It’ll just make for a great video. And if you watch where you step everything will be fine.”

Ross turned around from the passenger seat and smiled. “Smith’s buddy said their hasn’t been any signs of a sacrifice in a few months, so-”

“Ross!” Trott hissed.

“Oh my god.” Sips brought a hand to his mouth. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Alex adjusted his rearview mirror. “Should I pull over? I don’t want him puking in here, I just cleaned.”

Trott frantically tried to calm Sips down. They were almost there. Alex turned them off the main road onto a single lane gravel path, slightly overgrown as they headed into proper woodlands. He drove slower but it was a rougher ride. The path snaked around old trees and thick brush, then down a gentle slope before Alex brought the car to a stop in front of a very rusty gate.

Sips took one glance at the illuminated gate and shivered. “Looks like this is the end of the road. Guess we better go back.”

Alex turned off the car. “There’s no lock. The church is just beyond it.”

It was hard to see because of all the brush and darkness that was quickly settling in, but one could just make out the boards of a hidden building behind some trees. Alex and Ross got out of the car while Trott sat with Sips. He really _was_ shaking, and Trott started to feel bad for dragging Sips out here.

The trunk was popped open and Sips jumped. Trott rubbed a hand in calming circles on Sips’ back, although it didn’t do much to help.

“Just think of this like a camping trip,” Trott tried. “We’ll have plenty of torches.”

“That’s not the problem,” Sips snapped. “It’s too much, all of it. I don’t _do_ scary things. If this was one of those fake haunted houses then it would fine. But people did some type of fucking satanic worshiping here and that’s not shit I wanna mess with.”

“Well, we’re not going to be doing anything like that,” Trott assured him. “We’re just going to ask some questions, walk around, maybe see if we can record a voice. I promise that nothing bad will happen.”

“You can’t promise,” Sips huffed. “ _Anything_ could go wrong!”

Sips’ door was wrenched open, causing the man to flinch sideways into Trott, his head slamming into Trott’s jaw.

“Smith, what the fuck,” Trott said, rubbing the spot.

Alex shined a flashlight at them and grinned. “Let’s go, boys. We’re wasting the night.” He reached in and grabbed Sips’ arm, giving him a surprisingly strong tug.

Sips let himself be pulled out but he kept a vice grip on Trott’s wrist. The two of them were led along to the front of the car where Ross gave the gate a shove. It opened with an eerie squeak that had Sips’ fingernails digging into Trott’s skin.

The four of them walked single file to the abandoned church. The light Ross carried at the front did a nice job of lighting up the area thoroughly. When the building came into view, Ross raised the torch so that the front was on full display. Most of the wood was covered in vines and moss, with bits here and there rotted away. There was no door and the windows were haphazardly covered in split and hanging boards.

The few steps up to the place didn’t look dangerous, and Ross took his time travelling up them. He made it to the porch and waved for the rest of them to come up.

“I don’t wanna do it,” Sips muttered, voice strained. “It’s too much. I can’t.”

“I’m here,” Trott said. He put a foot on the first step and waited. “You can do this, Sips.”

While Ross and Alex went into the church, Trott helped Sips up the stairs as if he were eighty years old with bad knees. It felt like ages before they were finally at the doorway.

“See?” Trott said with a smile. “That was easy.”

Sips shook his head and said nothing. They covered the remaining feet until they had a hole filled roof over their heads. There were only a few remaining pews on each side, and all of them had splintered wood that definitely wouldn’t hold up if someone were to try to sit on it.

Alex and Ross were already in the middle of the small church going through their bags, bringing out cameras and various other pieces of equipment. The voice recorders were borrowed from Alex’s friend who went on regular ghost hunts.

Ross came over to Trott and Sips, camera in hand. “The night vision looks pretty good on this. Want to see?”

“Nope,” Sips said, eyes darting around the room.

Trott gave his best smile. “I trust you, even if you are cursed with dog vision.”

Alex laughed, voice echoing just a smidge. “How about we get started?” His camera was rolling and he pointed it towards the rest of them. “Trott, how about you give us an intro?”

Trott took a deep breath before giving an energetic welcome for the video. Sips stuck to his side, biting his lip, definitely beyond uncomfortable. When Trott tried to introduce him, Sips hardly responded.

While Alex explained what they were going to be doing, Ross filmed various shots of the decrepit church, floor boards creaking loudly under his shoes. Trott stood still with Sips, waiting for Alex to start talking about some of the supposed history of the church.

He was interrupted by Ross frantically calling them over to behind the broken pulpit. Trott had to practically drag Sips over.

“Holy shit,” Alex said, crouching down to get a better look at the smudged circle. “Guess we know where they did those rituals.” He ran a finger along a dark splattering. “I bet this is blood.”

“Don’t touch it!” Sips shrieked. “That’s disgusting.”

“It’s old, nothing to worry about.” Alex stood and handed his camera to Trott so that he could start to roll on the digital recorder. “If anyone is here, like maybe Satan-”

“No, no, no,” Sips breathed.

“-then speak into this so we can hear you.”

The church went quiet as they listened for a response. Alex waited a full minute before he reviewed what he had just recorded. There weren’t any strange voices that came through.

“Guess no one’s haunting here,” Sips said. “Means we can leave, yeah?”

Alex shoved the recorder into Sips’ chest. “How about you ask a question? And stop clinging to Trott, you’re a grown ass man.”

Trott shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

“Don’t encourage him,” Alex scolded. He pried Sips away from Trott and moved him closer to a corner. “Come on, Sips, take this and at least pretend you’re having fun.”

“No way, I’m too much of a puss-puss.” Sips tried to push the recorder but Alex wasn’t having any of it.

He held it up. “Now’s your chance,” Alex said loudly. “Take advantage of this scaredy cat. Use his energy.”

“What?!” Sips choked out. “No, don’t use mine!”

“Give us a sign you’re here. Possess Sips and speak to us.”

Ross laughed. Trott tried to come over but Alex blocked his path.

“Smith, let him be. Can’t you tell he’s frightened-”

There were three very distinct knocks from somewhere to their left. Everyone went quiet except for Sips. He started to breathe much heavier than before and grabbed onto Alex’s arm.

“What was that?” Ross asked, turning to film the area where the knocks sounded like they came from.

Alex shrugged. “Probably a squirrel or something.”

“Since when do squirrels knock?” Trott asked.

“Then maybe it was a woodpecker, I don’t know.”

Ross walked past Trott. “Could have been.”

“Ow,” Sips yelped. “Smithy, what the fuck’s your problem?” He rubbed at the back of his neck.

“What?” Alex shook his arm, trying to get Sips to let go.

“Why’d you scratch me? Shit, it stings.”

“Uh, I clearly didn’t. You’re hanging on my arm and my other one is holding this recorder.”

Trott came over with his torch and asked to have a look. Sips let him. “Jesus Christ… Come look at this,” Trott said.

“What is it?” Sips asked frantically.

“Dude,” Alex said. “You have like, these three bright red scratches.”

Sips spun around, hand covering his neck. “Stop fucking joking.”

“He isn’t,” Trott said. “Come back here, I’ll take a picture.” Sips reluctantly allowed Trott to snap a photo with his phone.

When he saw that he did indeed have angry scratch marks on his neck, he started to panic. “We’ve got to leave.” Sips tugged at Trott’s arm. “Please, I’m begging you guys.”

“Maybe we should,” Trott said. “This is getting pretty weird.”

Alex scoffed. “You want to puss out because of a few little scratches? Come on, we need more evidence than that.”

Ross turned, getting a long shot of the body of the church. He noticed a flicker of light dart up from one of the pews, then shoot left down the center aisle. There were heavy accompanying footsteps that came next and Alex had to slap a hand over Sips’ mouth to keep him silent.

They listened until the footsteps stopped. Alex held out the recorder. “We just heard you. What’s your name?”

Sips struggled out of Alex’s grip and bat at the recorder. He knocked it from Alex’s hand. It clattered to the floor and slid several feet away.

“What the fuck, Sips? This shit’s expensive and not mine.” He went over to where it laid and scooped it up.

Sips took a step towards Trott before he doubled over. “Ugh, what the hell. I feel nauseous.” He set a hand on Trott’s shoulder. “Feels like someone punched me in the stomach or something.”

Ross stopped recording and watched over the last few minutes. “There’s some weird stuff happening and I think I got some of it. Maybe we should leave now, before Sips actually does puke.”

Trott agreed. “Smith, you wanted to bring Sips along in the first place even though he didn’t want to come. We should have left him.” He let Sips lean against him.

“He’s a pain but he’s attracting something. I’m sure if we start provoking it-”

“No!” Sips gasped. “If you wanna do that shit then do it by yourself. I don’t want to be followed home by some angry spirit. I already got attacked.”

“Sips is right, that’s probably a bad idea,” Trott said. “Wrap things up, I’ll help him to the car.”

Alex groaned. “We haven’t even been here an hour!”

“We can still make a decent video out of this,” Ross said. He focused the camera on Alex. “Why don’t you give us an outro?”

Alex sighed. “Fine.” He tried not to let his disappointment show as he reviewed what happened to Sips and how they were cutting the investigation short. “We’ll come back though, without him at a later date.”

Through the viewfinder, Ross watched Alex startle and spin around. “What is it?”

Alex was quiet for a moment, then turned back around. “…Felt something tug on my shirt.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m not,” Alex said, seriously. “Maybe it _is_ time to leave.”

They quickly collected their bags and left the church. Trott and Sips were in the car with the lights on. The trunk was reloaded.

“Finally,” Trott said when Alex and Ross got in. “Thought you were planning on staying.”

“Naw.” Alex started the car and drove forward so he could turn around. It took a bit of maneuvering and he almost hit a tree, but Alex straightened out and got them back on the gravel.

“What about the gate?” Ross asked.

“Screw the gate,” Alex said. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Sounds like someone is too _scared_ to close it,” Trott muttered.

“What was that, Trott?” Alex questioned.

“Let’s just get back,” Trott said. “I think we’ve had enough adventure for the night.”

Sips agreed. “I’ve had enough for an entire life time. And you guys owe me big time for this. Don’t even try to weasel out of it.”

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll buy you dinner and treat you well, don’t worry,” Alex sighed. “I’ll even lend you Trott tonight if you want.”

Trott raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“I’ll take him.” Sips leaned closer to Trott to whisper, “There’s no way I’ll be able to sleep alone tonight.”

“If you insist,” Trott said.

Ross turned around. “Can I join you two?”

“The more the merrier,” Sips said with a smile. “Except Smiffy. He’s not invited.”

“I don’t _want_ to be invited,” Alex grumbled. They finally made it out of the forest and back onto the main road.

They were only driving for a few minutes before they had to slow down for a deer in the middle of the road. The small buck was standing still, its head bowed to the pavement. Alex brought the car to a stop and honked the horn once.

It looked up, and its eyes were an empty black.

“Fucking _drive_ , Smith,” Sips yelled.

Alex floored it and swerved around the deer. Thankfully there was no other traffic.

“So,” Alex said. “I take that back about not wanting to be invited.”

“Let’s go to a pub,” Ross suggested.

Sips nodded. “We’re gonna need a _lot_ of alcohol to help us forget about this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll admit, I’ve watched a little too much Ghost Adventures…


	2. Witches of All Genders & Alignments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Witches of all genders and alignments

Trott rolled over on his bed, his waist length brown hair pinned underneath his back as he held up the book he was reading. He eyed the left page, scanning a list of different ingredients that he was sure he could find in the forest surrounding him. Only one of the items might be a little tricky. He brought the book down to his face and inhaled, the smell of old paper and ink calming. The potion was advanced and definitely something more suited to be made by someone older who had more experience. But Sips was currently away for the month, and Trott didn’t think he could wait for his return, excitement too strong. Besides, this would be his own personal challenge. It was good to push oneself every now and again.

He sat up, bookmarked the page, and then got to his feet. Trott carried the book under his arm as he made his way down the narrow stairs of his treetop room to the living area underneath it. There, Ross was sitting in his usual chair, crushing up butterfly wings with a small mortar and pestle.

“I found a brew I want to try,” Trott said. He sat on the floor in front of Ross, a low table between them. He dropped the heavy book onto the table with a thud but didn’t open it. “The problem is that it takes the thunderworm moss.”

Ross continued his grinding, only stopping momentarily to push a stray piece of inky hair behind a pointed ear. “That only grows under waterfalls. Sometimes,” he commented.

“Exactly.”

“And the nearest one is a day’s trip away by foot.”

Trott traced a finger over the soft leather cover of the book. “Yeah. But there _is_ a way to get there in less time…”

Ross finally stopped what he was doing and looked at Trott, blue eyes sharp. “I know you want to ride Amalthea.” He sighed. “We’ve been over this already. Like, a _lot_ of times.”

“Well, yeah,” Trott said with a shrug. “But maybe we can appeal to her somehow.”

“Even though she knows that we’re not virgins,” Ross said with a grin. Trott huffed. “There’s no way you can ride her, let alone touch her. I still don’t know how you managed to corral her in the first place.”

Trott admitted, “I had some help from those fairies we gave some herbs to.”

“Ah. That would explain it. So you had them trick her.”

Trott winced. “You make it sound like I’m a bad guy.”

Ross laughed. “Technically you are. Though you’ve been around her more than I.” He leaned back in his seat. “We might as well let her go. She’s probably angry at being kept in a stable of all places, like some common horse.”

“She has her pheasant friends down there with her. And it’s not like she needs to eat.”

“So what else does this brew need? We have everything?” Ross asked.

Trott propped up the book and looked over the list again. “There’s a few things I can have you get, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, let me see.”

Trott peeked at Ross over the top of the book. “I kind of want to keep the final product a secret. I’ll write down what I need.”

Ross clicked his tongue. “Wonder what this elixir is. I bet it’s something naughty,” he teased.

With a blush staining his cheeks, Trott snapped the book shut and stood. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.” He went to get some paper and ink before writing what it was he wanted Ross to get. He handed it to Ross. “Now the hard part. Convincing Amalthea.”

“Good luck,” Ross said. “You could always make a quick fortune potion.”

Trott shook his head. “That isn’t going to work on a unicorn.”

He made his way to the door and then down the stairs that wound around the trunk of the tree. At the base lay the one stall stable. This Trott approached with an open mind and heart.

When Amalthea saw him, she snorted.

Trott smiled. “Yeah, I know, I’m a filthy, tainted elf. Sorry for keeping you here.” He rested his arms across the top of the outer fence.

The pheasants hurried out of the way as Amalthea stepped from the covered half, her white coat picking up the light that filtered in from the treetops, causing her to glow. She advanced wearily, tossing her head.

“It’s just that I’ve never come across a unicorn before. You guys are pretty rare around here.” He bit his lip, knowing that there was no way to bribe a unicorn, nor could he touch her without risk of getting skewered by her long, glossy horn. “Therefore I’m going to let you go.” He unlatched the lock and moved back as he opened the gate.

Amalthea took one step towards the opening, ears stiff and pricked forward. Her lavender eyes slid between Trott and the gate. She placed another hoof forward.

“Ah, but if you leave, you won’t be able to see it,” Trott said.

This had Amalthea raising her head. She gave a nicker, and Trott smiled. She was definitely interested.

“I’m making a potion but it requires a moss that only grows under waterfalls,” he explained. “If you stick around for a couple days you’ll get to see an unspoiled maiden. At least, that’s the hope.”

Amalthea tilted her head to the side, then gave it a shake. She swished her sleek, silver tail.

“It’s going to take me a while to get to the waterfall.” Trott pushed away from the fence. “Well, do what you want. I’m going to be leaving soon.” With that he returned to the stairs and once again ascended to the living room.

Ross was busy at the stove, cooking something that smelled wonderful. He saw Trott come in. “I thought I could at least feed you before you left,” he said. “How’s Amalthea?”

Trott sat down at the small dining table. “I left the gate open. She’s probably gone by now. I didn’t try anything, just told her to go.”

“A smart move.” Ross scooped the various vegetables from the hot pan onto a plate. “I don’t think we have any medicine to deal with a unicorn horn stab.” He brought the plate over and set it in front of Trott with a fork. “Want me to braid your hair?”

“Yes, please. If I’m going to be hiking all the way to the waterfall and back then it’s best if it’s out of the way.”

Ross fetched a comb and tie. While Trott ate, Ross did his hair. He brushed out any tangles and took his time making a secure braid that he tied tightly at the end.

“There you go,” Ross said. “All ready for your trip. Ah, you’re gonna need some snacks too.” He went to the cupboards, sorting through various containers.

“You’re such a good wife,” Trott cooed.

Ross laughed.

* * *

Within the hour Trott was packed and ready to go. He shouldered his rucksack filled with probably too much food and water, and a few essential potions. A dagger sat at his hip, something he wasn’t all too fond of but knew how to use if needed. Ross ruffled his bangs and gave him a swift parting kiss before he descended the tree.

To his surprise, Amalthea was still around. She had moved outside the stable and was standing not too far from it. When she saw him, she walked over and stopped an arm’s length away.

Trott bowed his head and the gesture was returned. He didn’t know if this meant that she was going to stick around because she was curious, but he started on his way without inquiring. It only took a moment for Trott to realize that Amalthea was following him. He didn’t turn around to confront her, just kept moving. She kept her distance.

A little over three hours into the journey and Trott was ready for his first break. He found a particularly grassy spot and sat down on the soft turf with a sigh. While he took off his shoes to rub his feet, Amalthea sounded a rather playful whinny. Trott paid her no mind, thinking perhaps she was saying goodbye.

A shadow fell over him, and when Trott looked up, Amalthea was standing above him. He sat still as she lowered her head and sniffed at his bare feet. Then she licked the sole of each. It tickled horribly, but Trott managed to keep his giggles in. They felt cooler and the soreness from before was gone.

“Thank you,” he said to her.

Amalthea bobbed her head and took a few steps back. Trott was thankful that he wasn’t making this trip alone. He ate a snack, took a long drink of water, and then was on his way once more, Amalthea trailing behind.

The sun soon began to set, throwing the dense forest into a somber haze that gradually darkened. When the world around him was filled with the chirping of crickets and tree frogs, and the occasional hoot of an owl on the hunt, Trott took out his first prepared potion. It glowed a fluorescent yellow in the vial and tasted like dandelions and sage. A minute later his vision tinted green and he was able to see in the darkness.

“You okay?” he asked Amalthea. He doubted she had any trouble. She only snorted at him. “All right, then.”

He wondered if he should continue on through the night. Lately, he had been staying up past evening to read. He’d fall asleep for just a few hours and be up again. Unlike Ross, who went to bed early and woke up late, Trott didn’t seem to need much sleep. He’d much rather be up, learning as many new recipes as he could.

He and Ross lived quite far from any others, deep in the woods where they were free to practice their craft in peace. The only other elf who dabbled in potion making was Sips, an older male who resided close by. They often went to him to learn more about advanced recipes, brewing techniques, and rare ingredients. But with Sips gone for a while, it was just Trott and Ross on their own.

Which was fine. They had lived comfortably together for several years now without any issues. In a way they were lovers, although they were somehow still quite shy to show too much affection outside of their bedrooms at night. Trott thought that perhaps it had to do with them both feeling a little ashamed for also liking Sips.

Sips, who could be to some degree a pervert when he wanted to. Trott was almost used to it at this point, though Ross was still embarrassed when Sips would come on to him. Trott was gradually working up the courage to suggest that they all do _something_ together.

Amalthea gave a rough neigh.

Trott stopped and turned around, a guilty look on his face. “Sorry. I’m sure you have some power to sense impure thoughts, don’t you?”

Amalthea’s nostrils flared and she tossed her head. A single stomp meant most likely a yes.

“I can’t help it,” Trott said. He continued forward. “I’m not like you. I have desires, and a few of those happen to be sexual.”

The unicorn behind him was silent. Trott cleared his mind and focused on the trail.

Ahead was a break in the forest where there was a small clearing. When they stepped out of the forest, a chilly breeze met them. Trott walked to roughly the middle of the open area and sat down, sliding his bag off his shoulder. Around him was the pulsing lights of fireflies. He didn’t know how long the night vision potion would last. Ross was the one who made it and hadn’t specified the length on the vial like he usually did.

Either way, the field of long, arched grasses was comfortable. Trott could see himself sleeping here. He unsheathed his dagger and stretched. Close, but not too close, Amalthea bedded down as well. Trott knew she didn’t need to sleep, so perhaps she was just lying nearby to keep watch over him. It was thoughtful of her. Trott thought that he felt much safer on the ground with her around.

He’d been sleeping quite well when a growl woke him. Trott opened his eyes and reached for his dagger, only he wasn’t able to see in the darkness surrounding him. The potion had worn off, then. His hand came in contact with smooth metal and he picked it up. The growl came again, this time from somewhere to his right. This was definitely not good. He was at a severe disadvantage. There was a potion for an explosive fireball in his rucksack but there was no way he would be able to know which one it was without some light. Trott cursed himself for letting his guard down. He should have been more prepared.

Trott got to his feet and stayed in a crouch, dagger in hand. Behind him he heard the rustle of grass and so he turned, begging his eyes to adjust to the low light. It had become cloudy, and any moon that was out was obscured.

Amalthea nickered, the low sound comforting. At least she was still around. But then whatever it was that had been stalking in the grass gave a sharp howl that was answered almost immediately by another two off in the distance.

If he were near a tree, Trott would be up it already. He knew the wolves of the forest could be relentless if they were hungry enough though. He’d heard stories from Sips’ youth about how he spent several days in a tree until the pack finally gave up and left him be. One in the day he could take on, but several in the pitch black he could not.

Trott grabbed his pack, ready to try to make a run for it. His eyes were able to make out vague shapes of the tree line. If he could just get there and feel for a low branch, he could make this work.

The grass moved, both in front of him and behind, and Trott felt dread seize his heart. A familiar snort accompanied the warm touch of a soft nose on his cheek. He felt the brush of Amalthea’s mane on his neck.

It only took Trott a moment to realize that there was another option. He placed his dagger between his teeth. Both hands free, he felt alongside Amalthea’s neck until he was at her side. He pulled himself up onto her back, fingers twisting into her soft mane.

As soon as his knees pushed in to secure himself, she reared up and took off. Trott didn’t know how fast they were going. All he could hear was the wind in his ears. The ride wasn’t smooth either. He struggled to stay on as Amalthea sprinted, hoping he wasn’t hurting her with his tight grip.

He felt the muscles beneath her silky coat tense before she jumped –only there was no landing. Trott felt like they were in a freefall and he squeezed his eyes shut, certain that they must have went off the side of a hill. The air felt charged, like that of a storm, and it shrieked in his ears for a long minute.

Then all the noise ceased and slowly the sound of rushing water came. Below him, Amalthea was completely still. His teeth hurt from how hard they were clenched on his blade. Trott opened his eyes. It was still dark but no longer was the half-moon obscured by clouds. It cast a faint white radiance over the world.

They were near a stream, and the more Trott listened, the more he could make out the faint roar of a waterfall. He untangled his hands from Amalthea’s mane and slid off her on unsteady legs. He sheathed his dagger and rubbed his jaw. He knew unicorns were quick, except he hadn’t expected them to be _that_ fast.

“I guess I owe you one now, don’t I?” Trott said. “Forever I remain in your debt.” He turned to her and bowed low.

Amalthea stared at him, tail sweeping left and right. Trott started along the bank, going upstream. Amalthea followed him. Slowly the sound of the waterfall increased, and he could see the glistening white of it ahead.

The only problem was that it was still night, and without the sun’s rays there was no way he would be able to find the moss that grew on the rocks underneath. Trott stepped back from the edge of the water.

“I’m gonna have to wait for daylight,” he explained to Amalthea. “I only had one night vision potion.” He found a large, flat rock and climbed up onto it. “Sorry for the wait.”

Amalthea raised her head to the sky. There was a blinding flash that forced Trott to cover his eyes.

When he heard Amalthea nicker, he carefully opened them. Somehow, it was late morning. The sun was just over the trees, the forest lit up wonderfully clear. Trott looked around in awe.

“Since when can you manipulate _time_?”

Amalthea just stared at him.

“You know what, maybe it’s better that I don’t know any more of your powers.”

He hopped off the rock and stripped out of his clothes. The pool of water he waded into was freezing. His teeth chattered as he bared the cold. Once it was up to his neck he swam towards the base of the waterfall. Trott took a deep breath, then dove under. He kicked his feet hard until he made it to the rocky floor. He grappled along the pointed rocks, looking for a flash of bright yellow.

He returned to the surface to take a new breath and move further back. He hoped that there was some moss here. If the journey turned out to be for not, he would feel horrible about causing Amalthea so much trouble. The more Trott looked, the more frustrated he became. Yes, thunderworm moss wasn’t the most plentiful plant, but surely there was a speck of it _somewhere_ around here. He still had to check the furthest depths of the pool.

The clear water held schools of tiny fish that darted away as he got close. His purchase on the rocks disrupted the sandy soil that laid over them, sending it up in swirling clouds. Trott propelled forward, lungs starting to burn.

As he gripped a new rock, it came loose. He dropped it, and underneath was a glimmer of yellow. Trott needed to come up but he pushed his body. The thunderworm moss was soft in his hands and he worked the chunk of it off carefully. Finally it was free and he made it up to the surface.

Trott gulped in air before he yelled with a rough voice, “Amalthea, look! I got it!” He raised the fistful of moss into the air, then swam back towards shore.

He wetted some strips of cloth he had brought and wrapped them around the ball of moss before packing it in the bottom of his rucksack. Then he squeezed the water from his braid and got dressed. Amalthea seemed to purposely look away, and Trott held back his laugh.

He slung his bag onto his back and secured his dagger. The walk home would of course be long.

Amalthea nudged his shoulder. Trott turned towards her, an eyebrow raised. She tossed her head, a motion that looked like she was signaling him to ride her again.

“…Are you telling me to get on?”

She snorted.

Trott gently laid a hand on her smooth back and waited. She didn’t move, just flicked her tail. He got onto her, still unsure. His hands wrapped around her neck this time instead of in her mane.

Amalthea took off away from the waterfall at a charge. Her speed increased by the second, and Trott was able to see the blur of green that streamed by as they headed deeper into the forest. The air that sliced passed them stung his eyes and Trott squinted, not wanting to close them completely.

The scenery around them started to whiten until Trott couldn’t see anything except Amalthea’s neck. He felt her jump again, just like before. There was no hard drop to her landing. The wind stopped, and when he could look up, they were in familiar territory. The treehouse was in sight.

Trott threw his leg over and landed on the leaf covered ground. He jogged the rest of the way home.

“Ross,” he called once he was there, “I’m back!”

One of the windows above opened. Ross stuck his head out. “Already? Did you give up halfway there?”

“Of course not. Amalthea helped me.”

“How did you manage that?”

“I think it was voluntary on her part,” Trott laughed.

He gave a wave to Amalthea before he took off up the stairs.

Inside, Ross greeted him with a hug. “Your hair is wet,” he said.

“Yeah. We came right from the waterfall.” He dug in his bag.

“I still can’t believe that unicorn would help you.”

Trott unwrapped the moss and held it in both hands. “I’ll tell you all about it later. But first, I want to get this potion going. You got the other things I needed?”

“Of course.”

“All right.”

Ross helped Trott set up their caldron outside near their stockpile of wood. Amalthea watched them curiously as they got the fire beneath it going. Trott consulted the recipe and added all of the ingredients one by one. The thunderworm moss he stirred in carefully, and the brew turned into a sparkling teal.

While it was left to simmer for a few hours, Trott told Ross about everything that had happened on his trip.

“So do you think Amalthea will be sticking around now?” Ross asked.

Trott shrugged. “Probably not. Just because she helped me doesn’t mean she wants to live with us.” He purposely left out telling Ross about what his potion would do, and how he’d given Amalthea a hint. “She’ll be gone in a few days once she’s bored of us.”

The potion was done later that afternoon. It had lightened into a seafoam green. Trott ladled some first into a single use vial, then the rest he put in jars to be stored in their potion room.

“Now we wait until it rains,” Trott explained. “I can’t use this until after a fresh rainfall.”

“That could be days,” Ross complained. “I really want to see what this does.”

But they need not wait long. The next morning they were awoken by the pleasant hiss of rain on the roof and Trott wondered if it was Amalthea’s doing. It tapered off in the afternoon, leaving the forest around them wet and smelling sweetly.

Trott brought the vial outside, Ross at his heels. Amalthea followed them as Trott looked for a young sapling approximately chest height. He found one not too far from their home.

“Stand back,” Trott said.

Ross and Amalthea watched Trott uncap the vial and pour the liquid onto the top of the sapling. He quickly stepped back and waited, fingers crossed and breath held. The concoction dribbled down the stem of the sapling before finally touching the ground.

Dramatically, the thin branches of the young tree shot out and widened. The stem of it enlarged and split. Before them it twisted and shaped itself, transforming into the body of an adult human male. The green faded into pale, moonlit skin dusted with freckles. Wavy auburn hair covered his head. When he opened his eyes, they were cornflower blue. He stood naked before them, chest rising and falling softly.

Trott grinned so wide it hurt. He held out a hand towards the being. “This is Alex,” he presented proudly. “The defender.”


	3. Undead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Undead

The busy tavern was filled with residents of the village, many drinking tankards of ale and going about their usual nighttime merrymaking. Trott led his two partners over to an abandoned table near the back of the room. The stools were wobbly but they’d make due.

“Pretty warm in here, innit?” Alex asked. He had to shrug off his heavy fur coat.

Ross glanced around. “It is, but I don’t think removing armor is a wise choice.”

“It’s just my pelts. I still have my leathers on.”

Trott pushed back his robe’s hood. “Quiet. I’m trying to listen.”

Ross and Alex exchanged a brief glance. They were then interrupted by a woman holding a tray under her arm. She asked if she could get them anything.

Alex smiled at her and requested three house brews. She went back to the bar.

Trott sat still with his eyes closed, hands twisted together in front of his chest. The charcoal drawn eye on his forehead that was somewhat obscured by his bangs was pulsing ever so faintly a light pink.

After their drinks were brought and tasted, Ross asked, “Any useful information?”

Trott nodded. “One man is talking about the castle. He says it has been periodically sending skeleton warriors out in the middle of the night. They aren’t a particular threat to the village but they do scare the women and children.”

Alex laughed. “Skeletons? I could chop up a hundred of those with my axe in a minute.”

“They’re dangerous if there’s enough to overwhelm,” Ross warned. “Your wide swings leave you open.”

Alex shrugged. He took a swallow of the ale. “That’s where you come in. We watch each other’s back.” He paused for a moment, considering. “Not all of us have drank demon’s blood, you know.”

Ross rolled his eyes. “Way to state the obvious.”

Trott finally opened his eyes and unwound his hands. “By the sound of it, the lich is definitely still inside the castle.” He picked up the mug of ale. “I know townsfolk aren’t always reliable, but I think we’ll find something interesting if we go inside.”

“There has to be a reason it’s been left alone,” Alex said.

Trott took a careful sip. “The stories I hear tonight are comparable to the ones in the town we came from.”

“Are we going to cleanse that castle?” Ross asked. “Seems like a lot of trouble for little reward. The king of this region had no information or promise of compensation if we take out this supposed lich.”

“It’ll be good practice either way.” Alex gave Ross a rough pat on the back. “We can make it a competition,” he said with a sly grin.

Ross shrugged. “If you so wish it.”

“Trott, do you want in on this?”

Said mage drank his ale quietly for a minute. “…Sounds promising. What is the prize?”

Alex scratched at his beard, thinking. He held up a finger. “How about whoever kills the most gets to make the other two his servants for an entire day?”

Ross puckered his lips. “That doesn’t sound very enjoyable.”

“I agree,” Trott said. “We have no use for servants.”

Alex lowered his voice and leaned in closer. “What about _sexual_ servants?”

That had Ross and Trott raising their eyebrows. They gave each other a knowing look, then nodded once in unison.

“That’s a deal I can get behind,” Ross said with a smirk.

Trott hummed.

“Then it’s settled. The competition starts tomorrow as soon as we arrive at the castle.” He held up his tankard of ale.

Ross and Trott did the same, the three of them hitting cups.

“But wait,” Trott said. “What about if there really is a lich inside? Is there a special reward for whoever lays the killing blow?”

“That person gets a new piece of clothing, his choice, bought buy the two losers.”

“Deal,” Trott and Ross said together.

* * *

The sun broke over the skyline the next morning, and within the hour all three men were ready to face their enemies. Alex gave his axe one last wipe down before securing it to the holder across his back. Ross checked all his hidden knives, then holstered his two curved daggers at his hips. Trott looked over his pike, running his fingers along the edge of the long knife on the end, whispering incantations that caused it to glow purple.

They walked the distance to the castle following a trail through a relatively thin forest. It sat on top of a hill, very much weathered. To the unknowing eye, it appeared long abandoned. The three of them kept their guard up as they approached the outer ruins.

From behind crumbling pillars of stone wearily came skeletons brandishing rusty long swords, bones rattling. Alex gave a mighty roar and charged them, Ross close behind. Trott kept the undead at the end of his pike, letting his magic flow through it only to be released from the tip as flashing strings of lightning.

Alex slammed his axe right down the middle of his foe. “Keep count,” he shouted. “And no cheating.”

Ross armed each hand with a blade and spun, taking off the heads of two skeletons. They fell in a heap of brittle bones at his feet. He pointed a dagger at Alex. “If anyone cheats, it’s _you_.”

Trott moved in closer. “I can easily keep track of all our scores. Let’s hope there’s no discrepancies at the end of this,” he said with a smile before zapping another skeleton.

Within minutes all the adversaries were lifeless scattered ossein. Alex led the way through the ruins, up to the entrance of the castle where the massive double door was left open just enough for them to slip through.

Alex, Ross, and Trott filed in. The empty room was expansive with a grand intact staircase in the middle. They all listened for a moment, waiting to see if anything would come. The floor had many layers of dust and grime on it, and three of the side windows had cracks. Since it was still morning, they were able to see relatively easy, though there were shadows in the corners.

The air’s temperature dipped significantly. Trott raised his fingers to his lips, preparing a fire spell. Alex and Ross tensed at his side, weapons ready.

Four wraiths rose from the old stone floor, bodies shrouded in fraying gray wisps and faces black. Only their slit eyes glowed red. They emanated a low hum as they floated nearer, boney hands outstretched.

The tip of Trott’s pike burst into flame and he rushed forward. The pike tip struck one of the wraiths in the chest and it screamed a high, morbid wail before it went up in flames. It then lay in a pile of ashes on the floor.

While Trott went after another, Alex kept missing his strikes, the wraith far faster than he was. He huffed, axe swinging wildly, his thick coat ends twirling around him as he stomped forward with each blow. It dodged him and came in close, the cold turning Alex’s breath into frost.

Ross pulled a knife from his ankle strap and threw it towards the wraith’s back. It screeched in agony and turned around. Ross wasted no time slashing it, and it fizzled into black smoke. Ross gave a triumphant smirk towards Alex, who rolled his eyes.

“Distract one for me, will ya?” Alex called.

“Only if this wasn’t a competition,” Ross yelled back, already moving in towards the last.

Ross leapt into the air, but before he could strike, Trott jabbed his pike into its head. Ross landed in the ashes, pouting. Trott winked.

“Come on, Alex,” Trott said. “You’re starting to fall behind.”

Alex grit his teeth and plodded forward towards the stairs.

Ross sidled up next to Trott to whisper, “Riling him up will do no good.”

Trott grinned. “That’s why I’m doing it.”

They followed after Alex, stairs groaning underneath them. At the top was another open room, this one seemingly empty as well. Stained glass windows lined the walls letting in various colored rays of light. It was relaxing for a moment.

From each side hallway came the clang of metal along with steady footsteps.

Alex tightened his grip on his axe. “I know that sound,” he said.

Into the room came two tall knights, their plated armor black, and the helmet they wore had two long horns on it. In their possession were greatswords, shining as if they had just been cleaned. They met in the middle of the room, then turned towards the intruders.

Since the knights had no shields, Alex bounded forward. He raised his axe for a sideways swing and brought it across. It clashed against the left knight’s sword and Alex was forced back, his heels skidding as he tried to stay on his feet.

“A little help, if you don’t mind,” he grit as he blocked a heavy blow that would have come down on his head.

“I’ve got you,” Trott said. He came running to Alex as Ross went after the other knight.

The greatsword was bearing down on Alex’s axe and he was shaking trying to hold it up. Trott stabbed his pike forward into the knight’s shoulder. His charcoal eye glowed bright blue as he mouthed a spell. Ice crystals climbed from the point of impact and spread across the knight’s chest. It became immobile once covered, turning into a frozen statue.

Alex clutched his axe and threw his body weight in a circle, picking up speed as he spun around. Trott stepped back as Alex came forward with a barbaric shout, his axe striking the iced knight’s side. It split through, and the knight burst into a million glittering shards. They rained down, and Trott covered his head with a sleeve.

Ross, not wanting to be outdone, tried to wedge his dagger into the remaining knight’s thigh. It got stuck in the plates and he wasn’t able to pull it out. As the greatsword came down, he leapt back. Then he came forward again, second dagger raised. This he tried to thrust into the knight’s neck. His dagger made no dent in the armor and Ross was swiftly knocked to the floor. As the knight brought his sword down, Ross disappeared.

Alex rolled his eyes. “There he goes again, using those demonic powers of his.”

Trott laughed. “It’s just a little shadow play.”

Underneath the knight, Ross’ gloved hands appeared out of the floor to wrap around the plated ankles. He pulled, and the knight fell to his knees, sword clattering. Alex and Trott watched as Ross appeared again in the spot he had fallen. With what seemed to be added fanfare he jumped, landed on the knight’s back, and tore off the helmet.

Underneath was no head, only an empty darkness. Ross plunged his hand inside. What he pulled out was an equally black heart that still beat, oozing inky blood. He crushed it in his fist, and the body below him slumped, lifeless. He threw the heart to the ground, giving his hand a shake that sent blood flying.

Alex gave a low whistle. “Mate, that was something else. Remind me not to ever get on your bad side.”

Ross smiled sheepishly. Trott hit his pike against the floor, getting their attention. He pointed at the high ceiling that was starting to warp. It looked as if a portal of some kind had formed, angry red tendrils curling in a circle.

“Get ready,” Trott warned. “The lich comes.”

A rush of dark orange sludge poured from the ceiling and splattered onto the floor. With it was a being far bigger than the knights had been. The bits of gunk on it sizzled away, leaving the smell of burning flesh in the air. The skeletal form of the lich was draped in a red tattered robe, its eye the same ruby shade. Hanging around its neck by a chain was a shining yellow beryl gemstone the size of a fist.

“Do you see it?” Trott asked, his third eye bright white. “We must break the phylactery if we wish to kill this beast.”

“Sounds easy enough,” Alex said. He hefted his axe. “I’ll take out its knees while you distract it. Then Ross can get that necklace.”

Trott ran in, his pike raised. He stopped just short of reaching the lich and slashed his weapon. After a delayed second, a sharp slice of air ripped the lich’s robe. It grabbed at Trott as he made another slash, this time cutting into its rib bones.

Alex did as he said, going straight for where he thought the knees were. His axe met solid bone that didn’t budge. He swung again and again as if he were chopping a tree.

“Alex, look out!” Ross called.

The warrior’s movements were too slow. Alex failed to avoid the skeletal foot that pinned him to the floor, squeezing the air from his lungs. Ross sped in, eyes gone black as he surged into the lich’s leg. He curved his daggers around the bone just below the knee and with an inhuman growl sawed right through it. The heavy piece fell off, freeing Alex, although he struggled to regain his breath.

Trott shot a tornado of air from his pike, destabilizing the lich. As it tilted to the side, it managed to grab Trott in its giant hand. “Ross, now!” Trott gasped.

Ross launched himself towards the lich’s neck. He jammed his dagger into the center of the gemstone. It cracked, then broke apart, unleashing an earsplitting whine along with wisps of steam that burned through Ross’ glove and blistered his flesh.

The body of the lich eroded into a fine sand. Trott fell into the soft pile, then fought through it as he made his way to Ross.

“Let me see your hand,” he said.

Ross held it out. The skin had bubbled up, fingers twice the size and gnarled. Trott held two fingers over it, and a ball of water materialized to encase the hurt hand. As Trott whispered, the water glowed green.

Alex rolled onto his back and attempted to stand. “Shit,” he swore, clutching at his side. “I think I broke a few ribs.” He pulled himself to his feet and hobbled over. “Trotty, do me next, yeah?”

“Patience,” Trott clipped. He focused on healing Ross’ hand.

Alex kicked at the sand. “This fucker didn’t even drop anything good.”

Ross hummed, then winced. The swelling was going down but it still hurt. “Since when has any monster _ever_ dropped anything at all?”

“Uh, that witch we killed a month ago had a potion on her that sold for quite a bit. Or did you forget about that?”

“You spent all of the coin on meat,” Ross reminded him.

“And it was damn good!” Alex shouted. He grimaced. “Trott, _please-_ ”

Trott pointed a hand at Alex and a gust of wind knocked him off his feet. He howled, grabbing at his side.

“I _said_ , patience.” Trott’s lips curled into a sly smile. “Do you know who got the most kills?”

Alex groaned. “Well I know it wasn’t me.”

Trott nodded. He met Ross’ eyes. “Congratulations,” he said.

Ross scratched at the back of his head. “Ah, really? That’s unexpected.”

“You have far more skill than you believe. Definitely more than Alex.”

“Hey!” Alex climbed to his feet. “You know how hard it is to wield a two-handed axe?”

Trott closed his eyes, speeding up the healing process. “You’re the one who chose that weapon. The fault is on you.”

Alex huffed. He looked to Ross. “I guess we’re your servants. Shall we call you _my lord_?”

Ross laughed. He turned his burnt hand until the palm was facing up, then raised it to grip Trott’s own. Trott cracked open an eye. “I can get into that,” Ross said with a grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much unexpected fun with this prompt.


	4. Werewolves & Other Shifters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know nothing about werewolves and I haven’t exactly read much about them, so I went with another type of shifter: the kitsune.  
> Prompt: Werewolves and other shifters

When autumn arrives with its chilly weather, Alex leaves his flat and retreats to his cabin in the countryside. He likes to spend the days up until the first snowfall in quiet where he can sit outside on the porch with a throw blanket, reading novels. He had saved up his vacation days just for this. While everyone else wanted the summer off, he couldn’t wait for the full swing of fall.

He is out for a walk midafternoon that day when he hears a pitiful yipping. He searches for its source, wondering what could be making the noise. At the base of a hill he finds a small brown fox with its hind foot caught in a snare trap. It sees Alex and starts to struggle frantically.

Alex slowly approaches it, trying to keep crouched and as small as possible. He pulls his pocket knife out. The fox yowls and kicks up leaves, scratching at the dirt underneath as Alex tries to secure a hold on it. When he finally manages to, he saws through the tightly braided cord until the fox yanks its leg free with a snap of the rope. Then it is off. Alex watches it limp away at a surprisingly quick sprint.

His good deed done for the day, he returns to his cabin where he decides to make supper.

 

.

 

Alex has a late breakfast the next day before he ventures outside to chop some firewood. He plans to do as much as he can before his arms get too tired. It’s a day with no breeze, and the multicolored leaves fall gently around him. He works up a sweat and keeps a steady pace spitting the wood.

He pauses when he hears rustling. Alex looks around, thinking that there must be a bird or squirrel searching for food nearby. The sound soon stops though with no animal in sight. He shrugs and resolves to take a quick break and fetch some apple cider from the fridge inside.

When he comes back out, he almost drops his mug. Sitting on his chopping block staring at the sky is a brown haired man wearing a red bandana. The color matches his plaid shirt, and his dark jeans hug his legs tightly. Alex doesn’t know where this attractive stranger could have come from. They are miles from the nearest town.

“Who are you?” Alex asks.

Large chocolate eyes light up the moment Alex is spotted. The cider in his hand spills over the edge of the cup as Alex is tackled to the ground in a fierce hug. Alex, thankful that the leaves somewhat cushioned the fall, sits up. The man is smiling at him, and… Alex tilts his head. There’s something brown swishing behind this mystery guy. It takes Alex only a moment to realize that it’s a bushy tail.

“Are you a fox?” Alex tries wearily, because really, what else could he be with a tail like that other than some type of cosplayer?

“Yup,” the man says cheerfully. “I’m Chris, the one you helped yesterday.” He stands, then holds out a hand for Alex to take, pulling the taller man to his feet. This close up, Chris only stands to Alex’s shoulder. “I wanted to thank you for saving me.”

Alex waits until his hand is released. “That’s not necessary,” he says. “I only did what I thought was right.”

Chris shakes his head. “There has to be a way. Oh!” He crouches and points at the leaves on the ground. “Watch.” He picks up an orange leaf, and with a small poof of smoke it turns into a silver pocket watch. Chris holds it up.

Alex takes it, feeling the very real weight in his hand. He clicks open the faceplate and inside the time is correct. “How?”

Chris picks up another leaf, and this one he turns into golden brooch with an emerald in the middle. Alex receives it, turning it over in awe.

Chris stands up, looking proud, his tail wagging. “You can sell those. But the spell only lasts a day, and afterwards they turn back into leaves.” He laughs. “It’s a great way to get rich quick.”

Alex frowns. “Tricking people for money isn’t a very nice thing to do.” He sets the leaf items back on the ground.

Chris tilts his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed. “I thought that’s what humans did, though.”

Alex sighs. He doesn’t know how to handle this strange fox creature. He’s reminded of his younger cousins. “It really wasn’t a problem saving you and I don’t need anything in return,” he repeats. “You should probably go back home.”

Chris’ face falls. He appears to be thoroughly dejected. Shoulders slumped, he turns around and walks off. Alex watches him go, thinking that it’s for the best that he doesn’t get involved with Chris even if the man is quite interesting.

 

.

 

A day passes by, one Alex spends taking a break from wood chopping to read a book. The next day he gets back to it. Or so he _tries_ to.

As soon as he goes outside to the back of the cabin, Chris is there –and he’s brought a handsome friend.

The man in question is just as tall as Alex is with spiky black hair. Soft blue eyes match the bandana on his head. Alex looks over the white long sleeve shirt and track pants he’s wearing. His large charcoal tail hangs down unlike Chris’ wagging one.

“This is Ross,” Chris says. “He’s part of my skulk.”

Alex lets his hand be taken by Ross’ in a friendly shake. “Skulk?” he asks.

“It’s what they call a group of us,” Chris explains. “I mean, they being humans. We just call each other family.”

“So why’d you bring him?” Alex thought that he wasn’t going to see any more of Chris, let alone another one of his kind.

Chris says, “Ross wanted to meet the guy who saved me.”

“Uhh…” Alex tries to smile.

Ross wraps an arm around Chris’ shoulders and pulls him in. “Thanks for saving this twat. It really changed the opinions of a lot of us had about humans.”

“You’re welcome,” Alex says. He thinks he already knows what these fox beings thought about humans and doesn’t feel the need to inquire. He looks between Chris and Ross. “Any reason you’re wearing bandanas?” That’s the one thing he’s been curious about.

Chris laughs. “Oh, it’s to hide our ears.” He reaches up and pulls off the red bandana. His brown triangular ears pop up. Ross does the same, and his are black to match his hair.

Alex tries to keep his cool. The ears look so soft, and dare he say it, cute. Both men were quite charming before, but the addition of the perky ears has Alex desperately wanting to touch them to confirm their softness. He stays silent on that issue and instead asks, “Do you two want to stay for lunch?”

Both accept wholeheartedly. He leads them inside and tells them to take a seat at the table while he heats up some of his leftover beef stew. A bowl full is set in front of each fox and they waste no time raising it to their lips and gulping it down.

Chris’ eyes light up. “This is amazing,” he says.

Ross hums his agreement.

They ask for seconds and Alex gladly gives it to them. By the end of the meal he’s out of stew but has two very content and full foxes.

“I could stay here with this delicious food forever,” Chris sighs.

Alex is flattered. He’s never had anyone but himself eat his cooking before. He traces a nail across the old wooden table. “I guess,” he starts, “if you two wanted… you could hang around. Just until winter starts.”

Chris’ eyes sparkle. “You mean it?”

Alex nods.

“It’s a deal.” Chris and Ross grin at each other, excitement clear.

Alex guesses it won’t be too bad having their company around.


	5. Demons & Devils of All Pantheons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like the last prompt, I’m once again inspired by Japan.  
> Prompt: Demons and devils of all pantheons

Trott got to the top of the steps and had to stop to catch his breath. The Shinto shrine was still further up the mountainside, and there was no other way to get there besides walking. At least it was a cloudy afternoon with a cool breeze that brought the smell of sea water up from the port. Trott turned and looked out over the town below, a quaint fishing village full of friendly elderly people.

No one else was making the trip today. Trott stretched, then continued up. He was happy he’d finally visited Japan. He had been meaning to for such a long time, so when the opportunity arose, he took it. Even if it was a little daunting being on his own in a foreign country, he was enjoying it. Coming in late summer after the heat had died down had been a great idea.

Over his own panting he could hear crickets and the occasional bird. The forest around him was a lush green, only a few trees here and there starting to turn their autumn colors. Each step wore him out but he finally spotted the top of the shrine. It filled him with a rush of energy that he needed to push himself.

The stone torii gate had a thick braid of yellowed rope across the top of it. Three tassels and two ripped, zigzag pieces of paper were connected to the rope. Trott stared up at them as he carefully stepped under the torii gate. He was met with one last short set of stairs that he climbed.

The shrine was a perfect square, its roof slanting into the overhangs. A wide strip of purple cloth seemed to be wrapped around the outside of it. On the right side was a place where many wooden charms were hanging on a board. The left side had larger wooden pieces with black characters drawn on that he did not know. As he stepped closer, he wished he knew at least a little of the language.

The pleasant chirping of the crickets stopped. There was a dull thud from somewhere around the back of the shrine. Trott wondered if there was a worker still here, though by the way the townsfolk talked, no one really bothered with this shrine anymore. There was moss growing on the front pillars, and many overgrown grasses around the building.

A square stone basin sat in front of the closed doors, the water in it clear yet there were signs it had been sitting there for some time undisturbed. Trott set his hands on the edge of it. He heard the thump again, this time closer. He wondered if he should investigate. Perhaps someone needed help?

Trott went to the left side of the building and looked around the corner. He almost ran into a man much taller than he was.

“Sorry about that,” he said, backing up. The man had black hair and an irritated look on his face. Trott tried to smile. Perhaps he didn’t understand English?

From around the opposite corner another man came, this one also tall but with reddish hair and a beard. Trott returned to the basin and stood as the two men took up positions on either side of the front sliding doors.

Their clothes were simple black robes. Trott wondered if they were some kind of shrine helpers. He wanted to ask, but didn’t think they would grasp his questions. Though maybe they would, so he tried anyway.

“Are you two workers here?” he asked.

They said nothing, although they did exchange a glance. Trott thought that maybe he was being rude, so he bowed and apologized in Japanese. At least he knew how to say _that_.

The men suddenly smiled, although Trott couldn’t say it was kind. He moved back, almost sliding on the steps. The men’s eyes turned from cool blue to a glowing yellow. Their bodies suddenly doubled in size, ripping through their robes. One’s skin was red and the other’s blue, and all that remained covering them was a tiger skin loincloth. They each sprouted a set of horns and sharp fangs that poked past their lips.

Trott’s foot slipped and he fell to his knees on the stairs, unable to look away as two massive iron clubs materialized out of the air and into their hands. While they still looked somewhat humanoid, Trott knew they were definitely not humans anymore. Could he outrun them? His leg was throbbing with the speed of his heart and he stood on shaking legs. He risked turning around to descend the stairs.

He only made it to the torii gate before his arm was grabbed roughly and he was pulled to the ground. Trott looked up to see both monsters holding their clubs above their heads, grinning. He knew it wouldn’t help, but Trott pressed himself to the cement into the tightest ball he could curl himself into.

“Tsk, you two again? This is the third time this month,” came a voice from right behind him, surprisingly in English.

There was the sound of clacking wooden shoes and then a staff hitting the ground along with the rustle of paper. Trott risked sitting up to see what was going on. In front of him stood someone in a stiff white gown with huge sleeves. The stranger also wore a strange black hat. Trott watched this man wave his staff at the monsters. The end of it was a bush of zigzag papers like the ripped ones above them on the torii.

He shouted something in Japanese, then stepped forward. Out of his gown he pulled two paper talismans that he threw at the beasts. Once the paper stuck to their chests, they shrieked, their bodies twitching before rapidly returning to their prior forms. Naked, they scuttled up the steps and into the shrine.

The man who had saved him turned around and crouched in front of Trott.

“You all right?” he asked, and held out a hand.

Trott nodded. He took the hand and stood. “What were those things?”

“Just a pair of oni that haunt this place. Usually they stay out of sight in their human forms, but some damn kids from the village keep coming up here and ripping the ofuda.” He pointed at the paper above them on the gate. Then he sighed. “I’ll have to go down there and give them a beating or something.”

Trott raised an eyebrow. “Are you a priest?”

The man nodded, then bowed. Trott returned it. “I’m Lovasz. But since you’re clearly not from around here, feel free to call me Chris, or Sips.”

Trott laughed. “My name is Chris too. I’ll go with Sips, then.”

Sips smiled. He rested his staff against the side of the torii gate. “So, other Chris, what brings you round to these parts? Sightseeing?”

Trott explained his trip and interest in shrines. Sips listened, never interrupting, just looking at their feet and nodding. When he was done, Sips looked up and met his eyes.

“Wanna grab some tea? I’ll keep you company on your way back to the village. I can tell you more about this area if you want.”

“That would be great,” Trott said. He stared walking, Sips next to him. “About those oni. What are they exactly?”

“A type of demon. Been around here for quite a while.” He paused. “It’s a funny story, actually. And a long one too. If you’re willing to listen, I’ll tell you.”

Trott beamed. “I’d love to hear it.”

Sips hummed. “But first, the tea.”


	6. Vampires of All Kinds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Vampires of all kinds

The High Vampire Lord Sips was not pleased. He slouched in his throne, listening to the heavy rain beat against the windows of his mansion. The late night stormy weather only served to darken his already sour mood. He sighed and drummed his sharp nails against the armrest.

“Trott!” he shouted, voice travelling much farther than any human’s could.

It took only a minute for Trott to come into the hall, pace brisk, his red satin cloak billowing behind him. When he got to Sips he kneeled, a hand over his chest.

“You called, my lord?”

“Any word on Ross?” Sips asked. He leaned forward, hopeful.

Trott stood slowly. He stared at Sips’ bare feet for a while, as though lost in thought. Finally, he raised his head to meet Sips’ eyes. “I’m afraid so.”

“Well, spit it out.”

Trott cleared his throat. “It looks like Ross has went to our rival’s side… his reason is unclear at this time.”

Sips’ frowned and crossed his arms. “Well you better find out what the hell he’s doing fraternizing with the enemy. If he thinks he’s going to leave me for someone younger then he’s in for a world of hurt.”

Trott resisted rolling his eyes. “Yes, my lord. I shall get to the bottom of this.”

“Very good.” Sips nodded. “You’re dismissed…”

Trott bowed once more and turned. Sips gave a clear fake cough. Trott let his shoulders fall and turned back around. He stepped up to Sips and leaned in. Sips kissed him, then sunk sharp teeth into his bottom lip. Trott remained still as Sips sucked at the bite marks. He was soon released.

“Such an obedient boy,” Sips purred. He brushed Trott’s chocolate bangs away from his pale face. “If you do a good job with this, I’ll give you a reward.”

Trott nodded and stepped back, bowed for the third time, and finally left.

Sips ran a thumb over his lip. He hoped Trott would figure this out quickly.

* * *

Trott returned to his room to call out to Ross. He stood in front of the rain streaked window, opening his mind and reaching out for the familiar feel of his companion.

He knew where Ross was –on the other side of the country in territory that Sips had no claim to. The north. The area that Sips had been fighting with Lord Smith over for months now. And Sips’ second most loyal had suddenly left two days ago without notice.

Trott could locate Ross easily, but no matter how desperately he called, he was not answered. Ross was purposely blocking him. Trott slammed a fist into the stone wall. It didn’t make sense. There was no reason for Ross to want to leave Sips’ side.

Trott walked to his bed and sat, trying to think, desperate to uncover the truth. Smith’s rule wasn’t as big as Sips’ but it was ever growing. There was something about the radical way Smith led his cursed. They were attracted to his rough fighting style, the way he didn’t care about rules and tact. He was far more vicious than Sips with his killing, choosing to rip humans and even animals to shreds with his hands. Smith loved the blood of innocents, and it was rumored that he even bathed in it. There was no class to him.

But all this Ross had sneered at only a week ago. Trott set his elbows on his knees, fingers steeped together, and closed his eyes. Where was the connection? There _had_ to be a purpose, some motive for Ross to go to that beast.

An idea bubbled into Trott’s searching mind. Three days ago he and Ross had been scouting in the highlands along their border and they had caught their first ever glimpse of Smith. Trott opened his eyes. He fell back against his soft bed and a laugh escaped him. So that’s what it was, wasn’t it? All of this was just a lovers’ tiff. Trott cursed. Why oh why did Lord Smith have to be so _handsome._

He kept his findings to himself. Sips did not need to know about this just yet. It would only make the lord more furious. First, Trott had to confirm this himself and that required a little journey.

* * *

Trott set off the next night as soon as the sun was down. He flew through the chilly air, not bothered by the temperatures at such a high altitude. He took the most direct route north and made no stops until he was at the end of Sips’ territory. There was a thin mile of unclaimed land before it turned into Smith’s domain.

This Trott crossed into. He did his best to conceal his presence, but he first let out a message to Ross that he would be arriving shortly. As much as he wanted to show up unannounced, it would probably go over better if he signaled he was open for communication.

Smith’s home base was not a luxurious mansion like Sips’. The place was nothing more than an extended two story cottage of a comfortable size. Trott stood outside the wooden door, wondering if there was any nostalgia at play here. Surely a vampire such as Smith would prefer something a little more elegant. The beast _did_ have a lot of riches.

Trott gave two sharp knocks to the door and unmasked himself. It was curious that there weren’t even any guards around the place. As he was waiting, he felt a strong mind probe at his own, searching for what business he had. He tried his best to explain that he was here to see Ross.

A very skinny vampire opened the door. He stood back, saying nothing and refusing to meet Trott’s eyes. Trott came into the room. The door was closed and he followed this being deeper into the cottage and up to the second floor. Here it was open, and at the far back in the middle of the room reclined Smith on a stack of plush pillows. Ross was seated at his side.

Trott waited at the top of the stairs for an invitation to come closer. While he was a well-seasoned fighter and could hold his own, he was not in his territory. There could be an ambush at any moment and he doubted Smith would show an intruder mercy.

“Come on, then,” Smith called, a hand motioning for him.

Trott stepped forward until he was just a few feet away from the seated pair. He did not look at Ross.

Smith ran a hand through his shining hair, the low lamps bouncing off copper strands. He pointed a finger at Trott. “Is this Sips’ best? A guy this tiny?” Smith laughed. He set a hand on Ross’ shoulder and looked at him. “You said he’d send someone of high esteem. This is the one?”

Ross smiled. “This is Trott. No one’s closer to Sips than he is.”

Smith laughed again. He ran his eyes up and down Trott’s body. “Well, he _is_ cute, I’ll give him that.”

Trott grit his teeth but said nothing.

Smith slowly stood. He came forward until he towered over Trott. He set a thick finger under Trott’s jaw and lifted his head up. Trott was forced to meet his glimmering blue eyes.

“So,” Smith said, “have you come to join me? Or are you here to take away my new toy?” He kept his grin wide, his white teeth sparkling, fangs extended.

Trott had loyalties, the same ones that he had thought Ross had. Even if Smith was terribly gorgeous and probably a fantastic lover, he had pledged himself to Sips. Trott turned his head to the side. “I’m here for Ross,” he said.

Smith clicked his tongue. “Are you sure you don’t want to hang out here? We have much more fun than that old man you’re staying with.”

Trott bristled. “He is not an old man. He is the High Lord of the south and is more noble and skilled than you’ll ever hope to be.” Trott tried to calm his nerves. He didn’t come here to start a fight.

Smith crossed his arms, looking rather entertained. “If I held you hostage here, would Sips come for you?” He waited, but Trott said nothing. Smith set a hand on Trott’s head and smoothed it down to his cheek. “I think I’ll use you as bait.” His hand slid to Trott’s throat. “Two of Sips’ favorites are with me now. I don’t think he’ll like that very much.”

Trott stood still, thinking. Perhaps he had fallen into the lion’s den. Though, he hadn’t come _completely_ unprepared. At his side, he slowly brought out the knife hidden in his sleeve.

“Trott,” Ross said.

Trott glanced over at him. He was frowning.

Ross stood and came over. He separated the two of them. “This has nothing to do with you.”

“Oh yes, it does,” Trott snapped. “Are you really going to leave behind what you have for _this_?”

Ross shrugged. “I just wanted to see what it was like-”

“You’re going to start a war,” Trott hissed. He grabbed Ross by the front of his shirt. “You know how jealous Sips gets.”

Smith appeared amused as he watched them.

Ross sighed. “Yeah, that’s the only problem. Just tell him I’ll come back eventually. I don’t know how long, though.”

Trott scowled. He let go of Ross. “Tell him yourself. I’m not going to be the messenger.” Trott knew that was a lie. He turned on his heel and went back down the stairs where he let himself out.

He thought he might be followed, so he quickly took to the sky and went as fast as he could push his body. But when he arrived home he was alone, and when he tried to locate Ross, he found him in the same place he’d left him.

Trott didn’t know what to say to Sips. This was not going to be an enjoyable conversation.


	7. Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Halloween.

“Where’s Alex with that damn pumpkin?” Trott sighed. He was busy rolling out pie crust, Ross at his side chopping apples.

“I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” Ross assured him.

They were in charge of the pies for this year’s Halloween office party. Alex had wanted to just buy a bunch of pies, but Trott wasn’t going to show up with store bought nonsense. Ross had even taken his side, saying nothing tasted as good as homemade. Plus, the two of them liked baking.

Alex was on the second ingredient run of the afternoon. Trott found that he and Ross worked much quicker when Alex wasn’t around trying to taste everything. He had somehow let a pumpkin slip is mind, which was sort of crucial for pumpkin pie, along with whipped cream and extra eggs, and so he had pushed Alex out the door to fetch what they needed. But the man was sure taking his sweet old time with it.

The crust done and divided, Trott placed both into pans and slid one towards Ross. “Want me to start mixing the apples and sugar?”

Ross nodded, focused on not chopping a finger off. Trott poured brown sugar, flour, and cinnamon into the bowl of apples and stirred.

There were heavy footsteps on the porch before the door behind them swung open.

“It’s about time,” Trott said, and turned. Alex stood behind them, cheeks slightly reddened from the wind. He held up two plastic bags and Trott raised an eyebrow. “Where’s the pumpkin? Still in the car?”

Alex looked confused. “Mate, it’s in the bag.” He brought them over and set them down on the kitchen table before unloading them. Trott stood next to him, lips pursed. “See?” Alex placed two cans of pumpkin on the table in front of Trott.

“I _said_ to get _a_ pumpkin. Not _canned_ pumpkin.”

Alex rolled his eyes and stripped out of his coat. “Pretty sure you said ‘go get some eggs and pumpkin and whipped cream’. Nothing about an actual pumpkin.”

Trott shot a glare at Alex. “I’m _positive_ I specifically said to get a pumpkin. I know I didn’t say ‘real’ pumpkin, but I definitely said ‘a’ pumpkin.” He looked at Ross’ back. “Ross heard me, right? I told Smith to get a pumpkin, didn’t I?”

Ross didn’t stop his cutting. “I honestly can’t remember, Trott. But canned pumpkin isn’t bad. It’ll save us time.”

Trott huffed. “It doesn’t _taste_ the same. Everyone is going to know we used canned.”

“So?” Alex said. He shuffled over to Ross and picked a slice of apple out of the bowl. “Pumpkin pie is pumpkin pie. It all tastes the same. And it’s only good if you smother it in whipped cream anyway.” He crunched into the piece.

Trott took a few breaths, trying not to get angry. He grabbed Smith’s coat from the chair and pulled it on. “It’s fine, _I’ll_ go get an actual pumpkin.” He felt in his pocket to make sure he had his wallet. Alex’s car keys were in his coat. “Ross, make sure Smith behaves and doesn’t eat everything before it’s had a chance to bake.”

“Will do,” Ross laughed.

“Trott, wait a sec.” Alex stopped him as he went to pull open the door.

“What?”

Alex licked a thumb and rubbed it against Trott’s cheek. “You had some flour on you.” He smiled.

Trott wanted to stay mad, he _really_ did. But he couldn’t. He said a quick thanks and went out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These prompts were a blast. I had fun writing them and reading everyone else's! Got me in that fall mood. Thanks to everyone who participated and read/commented!


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